Three weeks ago my parents bought a betta fish for me. It was a gift to mark my coming of age, or something. I actually wanted a turtle, but they were too expensive and my apartment was too small a habitat.
My fish was colored a deep red with streaks of blue and tangerine. I named him Sue, because I tend to make friends with females very quickly, and because I like Johnny Cash. Nearly every day I fed Sue, and nearly every day I spoke to him about life, relationships, and the weather. I changed his bowl’s water every week, and even managed his fins.
He became affectionate towards me almost immediately. He had many ways of showing this. Sometimes, when I would walk by, he would turn and look at me, while swimming from the bottom of his tank to the top, or vice versa. Sometimes he’d even do this when I didn’t walk by, and occasionally he would swim from one side of the tank to the other simply as a gesture of gratitude and excitement for my presence in the apartment.
Sometimes he would spit his food back out when he ate. At first, I would scold him for this, but after a week or so, I decided he was growing up and that he would have to make that sort of decision on his own. My father gave me rocks to put in the bottom of his tank that are shiny, gray, and flat. They would be good for skipping if they were larger and next to a lake. I think Sue liked these rocks, he would often swim near them.
Sue died this morning, after what appears to be a rough night. Despite my reservations about him not being a dog or a turtle, he was a good pet. Something about seeing his colorless carcass floating on its side with one eye nearly detached really made me miss the good times with him. I think he may have died of a broken heart. He had been building a bubble nest on the surface, which is apparently what fish of his sort do when they’re expecting a female to come along and give him eggs to fertilize and deposit in the bubbles. I wasn’t sad about his death until I realized what he was waiting for. And then, I still wasn’t sad, but I thought his life made for an interesting metaphor. Then I realized the metaphor didn’t quite make sense, and I became sad and sort of tired.
If I remember, I’ll get another one just like him on my way home later today. Because they’re cheap, and well, I’ve got the tank and the rocks. I will name him Sue.